Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 47: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Days of Morgan a gang of cut-throats—and a very charm- ing young woman—’” this with a glance that made her lower her eyes again—‘‘and bound I know not whither.” ‘‘You have had adventures, too, sir,”’ she smiled. “I love adventures.” He laughed, grimly enough. ‘You may call them such,” hesaid. ““My ship for France was wrecked in the Channel, and I was picked up by one of the fishing fleet for Newfoundland. Nor could I in- duce them, for what store of gold I had by me, to put back. Head winds and storm drove us far out of our course, and running short of provisions, the sloop I was aboard tried for the colony in Virginia, but being driven farther south, we finally made a land- fall in the Summer Isles, where I took pass- age on a vessel for Port Royal. ‘‘But we fell in with the Dons, and I was taken to Domingo, but escaped, and find- ing my way with a party of cattle-hunters, to Tortuga, reached there just as d’Ogeron was cleaning up the island of all English- men, that he might make a French colony of the place, and so was clapped into his bloody fort along with the rest of these old standers. And there we rotted until you came to show us the way out. “Ods- fish! Fate hath a pranky way with her, sometimes. So here I am, worse off than ever, and time flies, and His Maj- esty’s business waits.” “Thou art not the only one who—” be- gan Nancy, then bit her tongue and looked off, silent now, at the rippling waters of the Caribbean. ‘‘An affair of state?” she asked archly. ‘“fAy,” he nodded, “‘an affair of state!” The thought of it seemed to make him grave again, for the smile faded from his eyes. “His Majesty’s business, methinks, rests more seriously upon his courtiers than upon himself. Thou shouldst look now after thy own interests.” “He trusted me,” replied the Devon man simply. ‘He is the King.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Nay!” he cried. ‘“’Tis no ordinary matter. His Majesty’s crown, ay, his very life, may be depending even now upon me in these days of cursed Puritan conspiracies. Paris is a hotbed of treason, such as thou couldst not even dream of.” . “Treason?” she repeated, her eyes full of innocence again. 45 “‘Ay, black treason. Sidney is there, the arch conspirator, and Colonel Chilling- worth, a very dog for plots. ’Twas on that business I was sent to Paris, for that they are plotting there is well known to His Maj- esty’s ministers, and I was charged to lure them back to England, that they might all be caught in one net and sent to the block. But I speak too freely to a stranger, though that thou art a Devon maid did make me loosen my tongue.” Nancy leaned over the rail, her face turned from him lest he see in it something of the deep concern his words had caused her. ‘““We have been thrown together strange- ly,”’ he continued, after a pause, taking her small hand in his. ‘‘And yet, such has been the turmoil in our lives since we have met I have not yet learned your name, save that the Irish lad calls thee Nancy—a pretty name, and one [I love.”’ She drew away from him, blushes stain- ing her cheeks, but he held her hand, and she let him keepit. “T am of the Devonshire Stillingfleets, Godfrey Stillingfleet, of His Majesty’s Navy, at your service,” he went on. “The name is not new. to me, sir,” re- plied Nancy. ‘I know it well as an honor- able name in my country, and one that has long been associated with our exploits on the sea.” “My grandfather sailed with Hawkins, and was with Drake at Nombre de Dios. I have used the sea all my life. And you— Nancy? The boy said that you had been kidnaped in France. How came a gentle- woman here, and what, may I ask, is your name?” : ‘You speak of me as a gentlewoman,” she answered, averting her eyes once more, “vet you found me in company to make you think naught but ill of me.” “Nay,” he answered, taking her hand again. ‘‘You wear your credentials upon your face and in your eyes, which do not lie.”’ Whereupon, for some strange reason, Nancy found she could not look at him, and so gazed off to sea with eyes that were blurred. “My name—I can not tell you, sir,’”’ she answered after a pause, when he had taken her unresisting hand again. “Call me ‘Nancy.’ ’Tis all I can give you now, and I beg of you do not press me further.” He bowed. CoMmicboooks CO